


the green light

by gyofuckyourself



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love Triangles, Nen (Hunter X Hunter), Self-Insert, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyofuckyourself/pseuds/gyofuckyourself
Summary: Chrollo had resigned himself to her death, or at least, he had tried to. He had tried and tried to convince himself that she had died in that warehouse, as was by far the most likely scenario, but some part of him never quite bought it. His suspicions were confirmed when their professions made their paths cross once more, the former best friends (or first loves?) reunited at last after eight years. But eight years is a long time, and had given them different values, goals, and lovers...Basically, Chrollo and reader grew up in Meteor City together before being separated (reader is badass). Chrollo x Reader, Hisoka x Reader (i'm a sucker for a good love triangle). Definitely slow burn - we're getting all the backstory in this one, babey.
Relationships: Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter)/Reader, Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	1. making a monster

The little girl watched as the truck dumped its contents into the expanse of garbage, eager to be the first to plunder the new shipment. When she heard the beep of the truck that signaled that it was done unloading, she was off, sprinting until she had made it to the base of the new pile. Nimbly sorting through the trash, she processed each of her findings in seconds: rotting fruit? Gross. A still-wrapped loaf of bread? Score. She made her way up the pile until she had made it to the top, where, like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, sat The Great Gatsby. She almost couldn’t believe her luck: she had been dying to read it after having seen it referenced in numerous school textbooks that she had found. Lunging for it, she was momentarily shocked when the book didn’t budge even after she had yanked at it with both hands. Peering upwards, she scowled. A pale boy of about her own age had grabbed the book at the same time she did, now perching on top of the pile and staring at her with unblinking, curious gray eyes. She used her grip on the book to haul herself into a sitting position. _He’s strong,_ she thought grimly. _Oh well. Nothing I can’t handle_. Just as she opened her mouth to demand that he let go of the book, he smiled. “I’ll let you have the book without a fight on one condition.” 

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” she scoffed, “I don’t make deals with anyone or accept anyone’s conditions.”

He shrugged. “It’s not a hard one,” he retorted, “I just want you to talk to me about it when you’ve finished it.”

She couldn’t suppress her laugh, giggling uncontrollably, and his curious expression turned defensive. “I’ve already read it, so I don't even care if you take it...besides, no one reads around here.” 

This silenced her mockery. “Not that you'd know if they did.” 

He gave her a careful look, silent understanding hanging between the two of them. As tough and cocky as they acted, no one in Meteor City was immune from the pang of loneliness that tightened their chests following endless days of avoiding others for survival's sake. 

“Okay,” she mumbled. 

He glanced at her. “Okay what?”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you about it when i’m done.”  
  
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, an almost unfamiliar sensation for him. “Cool. What’s your name? How old are you?” he asked, running a hand through his unruly jet-black hair. 

She hesitated. Information can be dangerous to give out freely, as she had learned the hard way -- but what could this kid do? She doubted he worked with the Mafia; if he did, he wouldn’t have time to or need to dig around trash piles for books. “I’m Y/N, and i’m 7.”  
  
He grinned. “I’m Chrollo, and I’m 8. Wanna meet back here tomorrow afternoon?” His grin turning into a sly smirk, he quipped “that is, if you can read that fast.”

She shoved him. “I bet _you_ can’t read that fast, dummy.”

“We’ll see who’s the dummy!” he called over his shoulder as he slid down the trash heap, running into the shadows. She pouted. Of course he had to make sure that he got the last word. 

***

Their impromptu book club had carried on for a week or two, the children choosing the ruins of an RV as their meeting spot, before eventually (and perhaps inevitably) choosing to become full-time companions. “This way, we’ll be able to discuss our books as we read them - and, we can share them,” Chrollo had reasoned, which seemed compelling enough to her. Neither admitted the simple fact that they had begun to care for one another, but they didn't need to: it showed in the care they provided each other on a day to day basis, them against the world. 

“I don’t see why Gatsby gets looked down on by Tom and all of them,” Chrollo hissed as they discussed the work by F. Scott Fitzgerald for the umpteenth time. It was a spring morning, a few months after they had met. “He’s the one that actually earned his money.”

Y/N nodded in fierce assent. “They can call him a criminal all they want, but how is his method of earning money worse than theirs? They just got their money by being born; he got his by being smart.”

“That can be us one day,” Chrollo declared, his eyes glimmering with something that she hadn’t seen in them before, a certain intensity that made her stomach bubble with excitement and a little fear.

She shot him a skeptical look. “What do you mean?”

“Just look at the world, Y/N. Money is power. Gatsby gets money, and gets power -- if he weren’t so busy trying to fit in with the snobby “old money elites,” he could’ve taken their fortunes for himself and brought them to their knees.”

She bit her lip thoughtfully. “That’s all true, but I still don’t see how that can be us.”

He huffed. “We’re smart. We’re strong. We can get rich at any cost, and scare all of the pieces of shit who run everything.” 

She grinned, starting to like his idea. “We won’t be like the Mafia, either, selling drugs or people -- we could get rich by taking their stuff! Take their power from right under their noses!”

The searing look grew ever-stronger in his eyes, darkening to an almost black-grey with his intense approval of her words. “We’re going to put Meteor City on the map! They’ll be so terrified of Chrollo and Y/N Lucilfer that they won’t dare send their stupid grunts to bully people!” 

“We’ll train so hard and become so strong that no one can stop us,” she declared, feeling her own ambitions flicker alive in the pit of her stomach. She and Chrollo simply stared at each other with slightly frenzied eyes for a moment before something clicked in her mind. “Wait, Lucilfer?” she asked.

He flushed a deep scarlet. He had been hoping she that she hadn't caught that little slip up. “Oh, I mean, with not having parents and all -- I don’t really have a last name, and I was thinking that I’d just give myself a cool one. We're all sort of fallen angels in Meteor City, so I thought it was fitting."

Her head tilted. “It's pretty badass I guess, but that's not what I meant. Why was it my last name too? Are we going to present ourselves as siblings? We don’t look all that alike…” Her lips pursed for a moment before spreading into a smug grin, cupping her cheeks in her hands to hide her own blush as she realized, “Oh, you totally meant that we’d be married!”

Chrollo’s complexion grew impossibly redder, avoiding her gaze. “N-no!” he spat, “I just misspoke! I meant “Chrollo Lucilfer _and_ Y/N! I switched two words, God, you’re so annoying!”

“Ya know, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you stutter, Lolo. It’s kinda unsettling,” she quipped, heart thrumming in her chest.

He crossed his arms tightly, desperate to change the subject. “It’s the last time you’ll hear me stutter, so I hope you enjoyed it. Also, what did I say about that nickname?”

She laughed as he tackled her, initiating one of their all-too-common sparring matches and seamlessly avoiding the topic that his heart held onto so tightly, too tightly for him to give up or put into words.

***

A few more years of being trained by the toughest master that exists -- Meteor City itself -- had rendered the pair as cocky as they were inseparable. They worked with the Mafia in their attempt to become stronger, biting their tongues as they did so. “You rats can have this for dinner! And be grateful now – I know this is like caviar to you trash!” a grunt laughed, tossing an already gnawed-on drumstick in their direction. 

“We’re just biding our time” she’d muttered, placing a placating hand on Chrollo's shoulder as he had snarled and drawn his knife. Their sacrifices had paid off -- having to fight for their lives with such frequency had given them speed, skill, and strength far beyond their years at a rate that was seemingly superhuman. 

Unfortunately, an eleven and twelve year old are still an eleven and twelve year old, regardless of their prodigy. In fact, their prodigy is what placed targets on their backs: in Meteor City, power is necessary to survive, but any more than that base requirement makes one either a potential threat or a potential tool. It is best to be seen as neither of those to the Mafia. 

Chrollo and Y/N were sitting in their RV (which they had upgraded significantly over the years) playing an intense game of Gungi, all of their focus directed towards the board. Chrollo leaned back in his seat, running through all of the possible directions the game could go. _“She could use her Shinobi to take my Marshal...or maybe her Shinobi is just a decoy…_ ” 

“You think too much, Lolo,” she scoffed. “You know me pretty well, what do you think I’ll do?”

But before he had a chance to answer her, a splitting pain emerged in his neck, and his world went hazy. The last thing he saw was Y/N slump to the floor, his heart stopping with worry in the moment he, too, slipped into unconsciousness. 

***

He woke in a dark room, bound head to toe in chains. Next to him was Y/N, bound in the same way, who he exchanged a quick, concerned glance with. “Well well, looks like they’re up,” a man chuckled. “I must say, are we sure the boss is going to give us the best price for them?”

“You’re an idiot,” a companion retorted, “no way we go against the boss here.”

The first man sighed. “He’s just planning on using them as tools, but I think the girl especially might be far more...valuable,” he grinned. 

Another man caught his drift more quickly than the other. “She sure is turning into a pretty one, isn’t she?” he remarked, running a hand along her jaw. “A few years too young for some tastes, but there are plenty who would be more than happy to have her as-is.”

She twisted so quickly that her head became a blur, and Chrollo couldn’t suppress his smirk of satisfaction as the man let out a bloodcurdling scream. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she spat out the man’s thumb. “Damn,” she gagged, “I’ve never tasted pork before, and I gotta say that I find it disgusting.”

His face murderous, the man smacked her hard across the face with his good hand. “I’ll teach you to talk to me like that, bitch!” he roared, kicking her in the chest with a sickening crunch as his steel toed boot met her ribcage. Chrollo strained uselessly against his chains, overcome with self loathing at his inability to help the only person he had ever loved, cringing internally with every jolt her small body made with each impact. When she keeled over, hacking up blood and clumps of tissue from God knows which organs, Chrollo snapped. “STOP!” he roared, “you’re going to KILL her! Won’t you be losing a lot of money if you do that?”

The man, whose good hand was now bruised, turned to him and flashed a sadistic grin, revealing rows of rotted teeth. “In a few years, boy, something you’ll learn is that a man’s pride is worth a whole lot more than his money.” He spat on the wheezing girl. “Can’t take disrespect from a woman. With a mouth like that on her, you would’ve done the same thing eventually.”

Chrollo saw red, and despite his youth, the murderous gleam in his eyes was so terrifying that the lackeys closest to him took a step back. “We are nothing alike,” he hissed. “It’s pathetic that your precious pride is so dependent upon beating up chained eleven year old girls.” He laughed mirthlessly. “She's a quarter of your body weight soaking wet and you still walked away missing a thumb!” As the man snarled and took a menacing step forward, Chrollo felt rough hands grab his skull and shove a rag in his mouth.

“Let’s go, Seth,” one of the men urged, splaying an arm across his chest to stop him from lunging at Chrollo. “For taking off your thumb, sure, we’ll let you have the girl, but we need the cash for the boy.” He glanced over to Y/N's broken form, who was now unconscious. “She won’t make it,” he decided, “we’ll just leave her.”

For the first time since...as long as he could remember, really -- tears sprang to Chrollo’s eyes. “Hang on tight, Y/N” he gasped around his gag in a frenzied whisper, praying that by some miracle that she’d hear him, “we’ll meet again, and we’ll be everything we’ve ever wanted to be.”

But she only lay there, breaths slowing down. Chrollo went limp as he was roughly dragged out of the warehouse and thrown into a vehicle, understanding too well at that point that resistance was futile. It was when he was sitting in the dark trunk, robbed of vision, movement, and completely helpless to save either himself or the one he loved that his heart truly became cold, and that he truly became Chrollo Lucilfer.


	2. taking the road less traveled

Hours slipped into days as she laid in the darkness, breaths painful but steady. She could almost feel her body growing weaker -- almost as if her life energy was slipping out of her. _No,_ she thought to herself, _Chrollo and I need to make it. For Meteor City._ She simply focused on staying alive, eliminating all other thoughts from her head as she meditated on keeping her life force from leaking away from her. Days turned into a week. By some miracle, she was still alive -- perhaps due to the shroud of energy she now held around herself, refusing to let any drift away -- but still too weak to move, both from her injuries and from hunger. On what she figured was Day 10, she heard some commotion at the front of the warehouse. Her heart leapt to her throat. _Chrollo came back to save me!_ Was her first thought, but she quickly dashed it. The footsteps were too heavy to be Chrollo's. She took a deep breath, and became as quiet as possible. She couldn’t hide, but she could try to make herself inconspicuous. Footsteps paused at the doorway in front of her, and she heard a chuckle. “How’d a little girl like you learn to perform such an impeccable Zetsu?” 

She opened her eyes to see a man with white hair and a long white beard. She was going to remain silent, but the kindness in his eyes spurred her on. “What’s...Zetsu?” she wheezed. 

His eyes widened. “It’s what you’re doing right now -- holding your aura within yourself. If you don’t mind, could you stop doing it? I already know where you are, anyway, and there's something I want to see.”

She warily decided to let her life force flow free, but still conscious of dying, she held it around herself as she had been doing. The old man’s eyes widened once again. “She taught herself Ten...opened her own aura nodes...so much potential.” he murmured, and she couldn’t help but glow a bit at the praise. He lifted a hand to stroke his beard thoughtfully. He had little time for a student, and he had planned on dropping her off at a hospital and letting them take it from there. But he couldn't help but reconsider. _Such a strong aura at such a young age, especially with no training,_ he thought. _Almost any other teacher wouldn't know what to do with such talent - I must be the one to train her to ensure that it isn't wasted._ “If you like, I can show you how to use this force within you. I think you could become very strong, especially under my tutelage.”

She looked at him skeptically, not trusting anyone in this world except Chrollo. Feeling the burn of her gaze, the man only chuckled, his own aura flaring from him. Then, out of thin air, the man pulled a stretcher. “How -- how did you do that?” she gasped.

He winked at her fondly. “If you were to let me teach you, that would be only one of countless things that you could do.”

She took a moment to think. Worst case scenario, this ends up being another child trafficking thing. _That doesn’t make sense_ , she thought, _if it were, he would’ve just grabbed you and ran. It’s not like you’d put up much of a fight._ Best case scenario...she’ll become strong enough to find Chrollo and save Meteor City. “Okay, I’ll do it,” she whispered, and he smiled, putting her on the stretcher. 

“Perfect, we’ll begin as soon as your injuries are healed.”

She glanced over at him. “Thank you,” she mumbled to him as he carried the stretcher. “I’m Y/N.”

He met her eyes and smiled warmly. “No thanks necessary, my dear, saving you was my idea! I’m Chairman Netero of the Hunter’s Association.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. Chairman…? This would be a wild ride. 

***

“Give me a day of maintaining your Ren today!” Netero chuckled, walking away from the girl. It had been two months since he had found her, her injuries having healed quickly under the supervision of the Hunter Association’s medical staff -- but if she didn’t know any better, she’d think Netero had saved her just to kill her himself. The first month was just all-day, arduous martial arts training: she was good enough to hold her own in Meteor City, but her lack of formal training had made her impossibly weak against Netero. Finally, they had begun to touch on Nen, but it was not nearly as exciting as she thought it would be. 

She sighed, aura roaring from her body in her already impressive Ren. “You just don’t feel like teaching me today,” she hissed.

His chuckle turned into a full-on belly laugh. “Maybe you’re right." His eyes softened. “But you’ll find that the strength of your Ren will be absolutely critical for combat.” Turning to leave, he called over his shoulder, "the most valuable moments of training are the dull ones. Having the perseverance to savor them is what distinguishes a good fighter from a great one - I meditated for twenty years straight, at one point!" She swallowed her complaints, inspired by his words, and for the next twenty-four hours, her determination was such that she hardly felt the fatigue that wracked her body.

Her journey being trained by Netero was a little-publicized one, but the Hunters who had seen her train or been coerced by Netero into helping her train had been astounded by her progress. By the time she was twelve, she had breezed through the Hunter Exam and by the time she was 14, she had already become a one-star Blacklist Hunter. She had the unique combination of prodigious talent molded by the most illustrious teacher she could have. Her training had never stopped, however, even after she had become a Hunter: in fact, the mission that she had gone on that earned her a star had been a “training exercise” according to Netero. She rarely rested, constantly working on her martial arts, her Nen, and her physical condition. When she was 19, she had decided that she was strong enough to finally shift her focus elsewhere: Meteor City.

She took a deep breath and walked up to Netero’s office, knocking. “Come in!” he called. He was sitting at his desk for once, flipping through documents. “Ging and his student are coming by later so he can spar you,” he informed her, not bothering to look up. 

She groaned. “Why? Fighting Kite is so _boring_. I’d rather fight Ging,” she grinned cockily.

“Don't push your luck," he warned, sighing, "understanding your strength enough to go easy while keeping the fight challenging for your opponent will make you a better fighter. This training exercise is just as beneficial for you as it is for him. After all,” he chuckled, “I still have to adjust my power significantly to avoid killing you, you should feel my pain for once.”

She glared at him. “Okay, fine, I’ll fight him. But, um, Chairman?" she mumbled, a sudden wave of nervousness turning her stomach as her palms began to sweat, "I came in because I wanted to talk to you about something,” 

He put his documents down, slightly perturbed as he had never seen her like this before. She took a deep breath. “Chairman, I was wondering if I could receive some funding from the Association to go to Meteor City and begin building schools there, along with some other infrastructure -- like clean water pipes and treatment facilities.”

His face was impassive. “No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no?’ You didn’t even think about it!” 

“That’s not an Association issue. We’re not philanthropists -- if you want to build those things, you’ll have to pay for it yourself.”

She spluttered. “But the people there starve every day! Children are sold into sex trafficking, exploited, overworked -- isn’t the point of being strong to help the weak?”

“That's what it may mean _to you_. It’s not the point of being a Hunter,” Netero replied quietly. 

“I can make _maybe_ a couple hundred thousand Jenny per mission, on average. The big bucks are rare. It’s an assload of money for a single person, but how am I supposed to pay for schools and infrastructure?”

He shrugged. “Not the Association’s problem.”

“It would benefit the Association in the long run,” she asserted, tone growing desperate, “kids that grow up in places like Meteor City become so strong just by having to learn to survive. My childhood best friend,” her voice broke at the thought of Chrollo; she had rarely talked about him, even to Netero, “my childhood best friend would’ve been just as strong or stronger than me, given training. If these kids were given a chance, the overall caliber of Hunters would be raised tenfold!”

“Those kids need to find a chance themselves. It’s not the Association’s responsibility and that’s final.”

Her Ren, usually so carefully controlled, roared from her form at that, papers flying off of Netero’s desk. “How can you be so apathetic?” she hissed. “Why didn’t you just let me die since you care so little about human suffering?”

Expression unchanging, he replied “I knew training you would be interesting. And it was, you've exceeded by expectations.”

Hurt tainted her Ren, and his voice softened. “This doesn’t mean that I haven’t grown to care for you, or that I didn’t feel for you in the moment -- you’ve become like a daughter to me.” 

“But you don’t care that I would’ve had the same fate as any of the children in Meteor City had you not found me,” she spat, turning on her heel. “One way or another, I’ll do the right thing, regardless of how eager the world is to prove that they hate us.” She slammed the door behind her. Netero sighed and continued sorting through his documents. 

***

Y/N paused before the Heavens Arena, where she had decided to go to make money for her projects after having done a bit of research. _200,000,000 Jenny to fight people? Easy_ , she thought to herself, heading towards the doors. As she placed a hand on the doorknob, a lilting voice made her spin around: “I don’t know what’s more beautiful, the aura, or the woman it’s attached to.”

She raised an eyebrow at the man before her. He was maybe a few years older than her, evidenced by his broad, powerful shoulders and chest that contrasted with his otherwise lithe figure. His clothing was eccentric, wearing a loose white...crop top? That was decorated with the heart and spade card suits. His face, almost aggressively handsome, looked smugly at her, unique, piercing golden eyes scanning slowly down her figure. He walked closer to her, and had she not been so sure of her abilities, she would’ve been intimidated by his imposing height and build.

“I’m Hisoka Morow, and you look like you’d be a great _fight_ ,” he continued, the innuendo clear in his tone.

She smirked. She was a woman on a mission with little time for tawdry affairs, but she lacked the restraint necessary to refrain some banter with such a hot stranger. “I’d say the same to you, but I’m afraid it’d be over too quickly,” she quipped, her double meaning clear.

As she turned back around to open the door, his hand caught her shoulder. Moving his other hand to tilt her chin upwards, scanning her face intently before stopping his searing golden gaze on her lips, “I’m sure you’d find my stamina to be impressive in either case, even as...tantalizing as you are.”

She shrugged off his hand with an eye roll, but walked into the building to sign up for a fight with a noticeable swing in her hips. Once she had finished and returned outside, Hisoka rematerialized. “If you make it to the 200th floor, I’ll take you out for coffee.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why is a date with you something I have to earn?”

He flashed a cocky smile. “Look at me,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards himself. _I mean, he isn't wrong_ , she thought, _the man is gorgeous._ But she couldn't fold so easily.

“Look at me,” she retorted, instantly regretting the invitation as his eyes once again undressed her. She suddenly felt flustered; unable to continue playing it cool as her cheeks flushed. “Gah! Fine,” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest self-consciously. 

He smiled lecherously. “It’s a date.”

“Whatever.” She stalked away to wait for her fight to begin, Hisoka's gaze remaining fixed on her as she went. 

“Hate to see you go, love to watch you walk away!” he called after her, cackling when she shot him a withering look over her shoulder. _I think I may have just found my favorite toy yet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, we're now in the "present" for the story, which is a few years before the events of the anime (I also haven't read the manga, so if parts of the character backstories go against the canon, please forgive me). The reader is 19, Chrollo is 20, Hisoka is 21, and Illumi is 18 (we haven't seen him yet, but he'll come up soon). I hope you like the direction of the story so far!


	3. blinded by nostalgia

She had breezed through the first 199 floors undefeated. It had been a while since she had fought without Nen, but she hadn’t needed it: the opponents thus far hadn’t required her to even think of using it. Following her last fight on the 199th floor, she collected her cash from the staff member and had prepared to head up to her room until she felt a presence that she had almost forgotten about. “Welcome to the 200th floor, my dear,” his voice purred. 

“Long time no see, Hisoka.”

“I’ve been watching your fights -- you are truly very skilled; I can hardly wait to fight you.”

“If you want to fight me so badly, you better sign up for the same day as me quickly -- I’m just going to fight enough 200th floor fights to keep my room while I look for something else to do.”

His eyes narrowed. “Sure, but you’ll have to tell me why you’re planning on leaving so soon over our little coffee date you agreed to.”

She sighed. She couldn't afford any distractions, but he was so good looking... “Okay, fine. When do you want to do it?” she asked.

She groaned immediately at her word choice as he grinned. Taking a step towards her, golden eyes predatory, he leaned close to her ear and purred “whenever you’re ready, darling.” She stopped herself from shivering at the feeling of his breath against her neck and glared at him. Taking a step back, he sighed dramatically and he relented. “If you’re free, we can go now once I’ve finished signing up.”

She told him the date she had booked and he went to fill out his form. Once he had finished, he offered her a powerful arm. She took it hesitantly as they walked out, Hisoka opening the door for her. “See, I can be gentlemanly,” he gloated as they walked together. 

“You opened a door, Hisoka. The bar is on the floor.”

“You’re right, and I only did it so that I could look at your ass again.”

She looked at him incredulously. “Has this flirting style ever worked for you? It’s essentially harassment.”

He shrugged. “It’s always worked. It’s not harassment if you’re sexy.”

She smacked him, hard, and he...moaned? “You’re so strong...and that blow was with no aura?” 

Her lip curled with disgust. “You get off on that? Sick fuck.”

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” he warned, and they stopped, reaching the coffee shop. They entered and ordered, and when their drinks were ready, they took a seat at a small table by the window.

“Is there even any coffee in that?” she asked, glaring at the vanilla frappe with “four pumps of every syrup you have” that Hisoka had ordered.

“Is there even any _fun_ in that?” he retorted, gesturing towards her simple cappuccino. 

“I mean, I won’t get tooth decay.”

He opened his mouth wide without breaking eye contact, slowly running a finger along his lower lip.“My teeth are perfect, I'll have you know. See for yourself.” 

She reached out and closed his mouth, grimacing. “I’ll pass.” 

He tsked before his expression turned serious. “So, why do you plan on leaving the Arena so soon? You just got to the good part!”

“I’m just in it for the money. I’m trying to make as much of it as I can as quickly as I can. Since they don’t pay you upwards of the 200th floor, there’s no point in my staying.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You know, I haven’t seen you fight, but there are easier ways to make lots of cash.”

“What are they?” While she had been a Blacklist Hunter for years, she had focused primarily on human traffickers, secretly hoping she'd find Chrollo – and while it was an extremely lucrative field, it was one that she would never take part in. Therefore, she wasn’t as educated as she should’ve been on viable ways she could earn money outside of the Association.

A cunning look came to his eye. “Tell you what – if you promise to fight me once we finish our drinks, as a sort of...appetizer, I will tell an associate of mine to come watch our official match to decide if you are worth working with.”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “How much do you make with this associate?”

He shrugged. “I’m not in it for the money, but depending on how good you are, you could make around 2-3 million Jenny for an easy job.”

 _Definitely assassins_ , she thought, which she had no qualms about. Growing up as they did, she and Chrollo had lost their problems with killing at a young age. Thinking about the dark-haired boy made her stomach twist, and she quickly distracted herself with a question. “If you’re not in it for the money, what are you in it for?”

He took a long sip of his drink, smacking his lips in satisfaction. “Is there any greater pleasure than to know that you have used your power and wits to back someone strong into a corner and hold their life in your hands?” he mused, and while his face remained impassive, a slightly crazed look lit up his eyes. “Anything more delightful than knowing that you are so strong that you can end the existence of someone so powerful?”

“Yes,” she deadpanned. “Lots of things.” He waited for her to elaborate, but she only sipped at her coffee. “I agree to your terms, by the way. Let’s pick somewhere isolated to avoid collateral damage, I don’t need to be fined right now.”

Without warning, his bloodlust surged from his body, filling the small cafe and making her cough with its potency. “Apologies,” he grinned to the shell-shocked civilians in the shop, restraining his aura once more. “Out of curiosity, why do you need money so badly?”

 _No point in telling him,_ she mused, _he’s about as far from trustworthy as it gets._ “None of your business.”

“I can respect that.” He downed the rest of his drink. “Ready to fight?” he asked, a sinister smile spreading across his face, the hunger in his gaze intensifying.

She finished her drink in turn, and hopped out of her seat. “Always,” she replied, tossing her empty cup in the trash and walking out of the establishment.

They chose a park they had stumbled across, agreeing that neither of them could leave the lawn, a square of grass about 100 feet by 100 feet. “Ready?” Hisoka yelled, and she nodded. _Personality-wise, he’s a textbook Transmuter,_ she mused, _how boring._ As Hisoka counted down, she focused Gyo in her eyes to see a tendril of something pink rushing towards her. _Called it,_ she thought, and focused on the substance. He had clearly aimed for her chest, so she stepped to the side and caught it in her hand. “Interesting, it’s very sticky,” she remarked, “a versatile ability.” _He’s clever_ , she thought, _a Hatsu like this isn’t very glamorous, but combined with wits, it would be deadly for most Nen users._ She grinned. _But not for me_. Before his eyes, it had melted to a liquid resembling Pepto-Bismol, dripping from her fingers. She saw several other tendrils coming her way, which fell uselessly as a liquid onto the grass before dissipating as Hisoka undid them. She sprinted towards Hisoka, liquifying all of the pink substance as soon as he had released it, until he quickly gave up on it and started studying the direction of her attack: he’d decided that his best shot was hand-to-hand combat given his physical advantages. Solidifying the air into a vertical column beneath where her right foot would land, she repeated this for her left foot to sprint into the air on makeshift stairs, above Hisoka. As he moved to dodge her aerial attack, she liquified the ground beneath his feet, making him sink, and re-hardened the ground, trapping him. She let her stairs return to regular air, letting herself free-fall, grabbing Hisoka by the neck on the way down. She turned the ground liquid before solidifying it after he had been immersed, trapping him. They had continued to scuffle, Hisoka managing to toss her off of him and send a volley of...playing cards? her way, but as he stopped his attacks in an attempt to rip himself from the ground, she lunged over and knocked him out with a powerful blow to the back of the skull. “I win,” she gloated once he had come to, and Hisoka's muscles rippled as he tore himself from his dirt prison. 

Far from being angry, his eyes blazed, beyond excited. “Your ability – what is it? What Nen type is it? It’s magnificent.” He hissed.

She shrugged, something in her stomach twisting with pleasure at his intense expression. “I’m a Specialist, I can change the state of matter of anything inorganic that I choose.”

Still staring at her fervently, he asked “could you, for instance, freeze a person in place? Or vaporize them?”

“I could freeze the water in them, or vaporize their blood, but that’s not fun. Even though I could melt the blood that I had frozen, for instance, their cells would have already burst. I can’t fix that.”

He whistled. “So you could kill anyone, instantly. Such a powerful ability must have conditions.”

She examined her cuticles, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah.”

“What are they?” 

She shoved him. “Idiot, I’m not telling you.” In truth, she could only change the state of something that she had touched before, which is why she had grabbed his pink substance at the start of their fight. To freeze a person, she’d have to have made contact with one of their fluids (like blood, saliva, or...other things) beforehand. He’d probably figure out this condition eventually – she saw the glimmering, terrifying intelligence that laid behind those hypnotic golden eyes. She also had limits on the volume of substance she could manipulate, though it continued to grow as she practiced. The same applied for the range at which she could transform something. All of these were genuine weaknesses that she would like to keep to herself, but she figured she’d throw him a bone to shut him up. “I won’t tell you the conditions, but a limitation is that I can’t change the actual temperature of something. I can change its state, but, for instance, when I make air solid, it doesn’t become dry ice until I undo it. It is basically just rock.”

Hisoka rolled his eyes. “That seems more like an advantage than a disadvantage.”

She shrugged. “Depends on the situation.” 

He looked at her hungrily. “You're stronger than I suspected - I can't wait to be the one to kill you," he growled. At her stare, his expression grew more playful. "At the very least, I hope for a much closer fight." 

“I guess I was right that day we met, ‘you didn’t last very long,’” she quipped, and with a playful growl, Hisoka tackled her to the grass. They wrestled for a moment, his physical size and strength advantage ensuring him a quick victory as he pinned her beneath him. “Let’s see how I do in the other context, then,” he whispered, golden irises becoming thin rings as his pupils dilated. He leaned towards her, nose brushing hers he pressed a kiss against her cheek.

She swallowed hard, attempting to quell the fire forming in her stomach. “I think I’ll pass for now,” she murmured, trying to hide the waver in her voice. “Let me go.”

His grip on her wrists tightened stubbornly for a moment before he released her and sat up. “Just you wait, Y/N,” he said, smirking, but his voice carried an edge of seriousness. “Before you know it, you will be putty in my hands.” Standing, he offered her a hand. “Ready to head back?”

She nodded wordlessly, and allowed herself to be pulled upwards. _It’s been eight years_ , she thought to herself, _if he’s alive, which is unlikely, he’s probably forgotten you exist. It’s not like you had anything, anyway – you were children_. But despite her logic, why did being caged by Hisoka’s strong arms, reveling in the feeling of his taut muscles and fiery gaze, feel so adulterous?

***

_“Chrollo!” she had whined, lamenting as the photograph came sliding from the camera. “You wasted it! We’ll probably never get another chance like this!”_

_Chrollo just grinned at her. “No I didn’t,” he retorted, “when we’re the richest people in the world, we’ll get to take all the pictures we want.” They had found a disposable camera with a single piece of film left in a trash heap, and they had been arguing about what to use it on. She had begged him to save it for a special occasion, but Chrollo argued that the longer they save it, the more likely it would get stolen and used by someone else. While she was distracted, rummaging around their supply pile for something to eat, he had snapped a picture of her, capturing the second she had looked back at him with eyes full of rage._

His long fingered hands caressed the frame of the picture as he stared at it. “I’m already richer than we could’ve ever imagined, Y/N,” he murmured aloud, “and everyone who is richer than me fears me.” He had resigned himself to her death, or at least, he had tried to. He had tried and tried to convince himself that she had died in that warehouse, as is the by far most likely scenario, but some part of him never quite bought it. He could’ve asked Shalnark to track her down using the Hunter database, but somehow, he was terrified of the truth. He couldn’t bear the idea of being told that she didn’t exist in records – for, if she had lived, she definitely would’ve become noteworthy. So, for years, he had remained silent, and kept her as close to his heart as he always had. After all, that was the only place where she was truly safe. 


	4. even the devil was an angel once

“You were right, the fight was a bit better this time,” she had reassured Hisoka over dinner following their match in Heavens Arena. He had decided to take a nonstop offense approach, taking advantage of the fact that she seemed to only be able to focus on changing one type of material at once, sending volleys of cards at her and following with Bungee Gum. This had kept her on the defensive until she had solidified the air in front of her to form a wall, protecting her from his cards, and ran around him in a spiral, keeping an air-wall in front of her as she went. Once she was in range, she solidified the air around his hands to keep him from throwing cards and vaulted over her wall to knock him out for a win by KO.

He sighed. “A bit, but not by too much.” He wagged a finger at her, eyes fond. “Your ability is frustratingly hard to counter.” She shrugged as a waitress dropped off a pot of tea and a few cups. “The people I’ve killed would agree.” Hisoka glanced at the clock on the wall of the restaurant. “Speaking of killing, my associate should be here any minute now.” A man maybe a little younger than her with long, dark hair and large, blank gray eyes took a seat in front of them. He was handsome in an otherworldly way; her mind was irresistibly drawn to the books she'd read about faeries when she was a child.

“Hello, Hisoka,” he greeted in a quiet, expressionless voice, “I take it this is your friend?” He nodded, and she reached out to shake his hand. He took it firmly, shaking once before dropping it abruptly. It was almost robotic. “I’m Illumi Zoldyck. I was impressed with your fight today – it’s not easy to defeat Hisoka, speaking from experience, and yet, you made it look so. Although, your ability does seem to perfectly counter his since Bungee Gum is dependent on its adhesive properties.”

“Yeah, I find that Transmuters generally are countered pretty hard by my skillset since I can essentially transmute their transmuted aura into something they can't use. Enhancers tend to be more tricky for me. But hang on – Zoldyck?” She questioned, eyebrows shooting to her hairline. He waved a hand at her uninterestedly. “Yes.” She swallowed her surprise. Hisoka has ties to the most powerful assassin family in the world? Some of the strongest fighters, period? She remembered fondly the stories Netero would tell her about his various misadventures with Zeno.

“My teacher, Chairman Netero, worked with your grandfather from time to time,” she stated, and it was Illumi’s turn to quirk an eyebrow. For someone as expressionless as Illumi, she figured that was equivalent to him flipping a table.

Hisoka cut him off as he opened his mouth to speak. “I’m sorry, dove, your master was Netero?” he had choked out, having inhaled some of his food in shock.

“Yeah,” she replied, voice nonchalant as she absently played with a few grains of rice with her chopsticks, but internally her heart dropped to her chest. _I was so disrespectful to a man who’s done so much for me_ , she thought, head swimming with shame, but rage quickly replaced it. He’s also a man with essentially limitless power who does nothing to help those who can’t benefit him directly. There were essentially no public services in this society – the Hunter Association was the closest thing they had to a police department, and water, education, and other resources were all inaccessible to those without money. Netero could’ve changed everything, but he had chosen not to. As far as she was concerned, that wasn’t something she could look past anytime soon.

Illumi cleared his voice, snapping her out of her reverie. “In any case, if you are interested in dabbling in assassin work, I assure you that someone of your power will be able to make very generous sums of money. In fact,” he paused briefly to order a bowl of ramen from a passing waitress, “a particularly lucrative job has just crossed my desk that is a bit beyond my current capabilities, I’m afraid.”

“How lucrative?” she asked, “and what’s its nature? It must be an incredibly difficult target if it’s out of a Zoldyck’s league.”

He poured himself a cup of tea before answering. “Fifty million Jenny upon verified completion, and as for target, it’s a member of the Phantom Troupe.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “The Phantom Troupe?”

Illumi nodded. “They’re a relatively new organized crime group; its first confirmed activity was about two years ago. Nothing’s known about them, really. Just that they’re a group of thieves who target the most valuable and the most glamorous – so far, they’ve stolen upwards of 2.5 billion Jenny’s worth of jewelry, paintings, et cetera, particularly from the Ten Dons and other big fish in the Mafia community.”

“Sounds like they’re doing the Lord’s work to me,” she muttered, taking a bite of her food.

Illumi met her glance. “I’m no Netero, but let me give you some advice as an assassin: don’t judge your targets’ actions, good or bad.” He reached into a backpack and pulled out a manila file. “If you’re interested, you can have the case. I was going to give it to my father, but he always is a bit overbooked.”

She shrugged, reaching out her hand for it. “I’ll take it. Fifty million Jenny is no joke.” He nodded and passed it to her. When she opened it, she was met with a single piece of paper. “What’s the point of a folder, Illumi?” she grumbled, and then she was quiet as she read it, Hisoka looking over her shoulder.

_I want #5 dead. The Phantom troupe, to my knowledge, is currently residing in an abandoned church on the outskirts of Yorknew. I do not have a picture or a name, but I do have a description: he’s tall and blonde and doesn’t have eyebrows. I do not know the extent of his abilities, but if it helps, when he killed my wife and all of my men, he swung his fist around and they exploded on impact. I have no idea how he did it. I will wire the payment to a provided account if his head is delivered to my personal address. If the head is not intact for whatever reason, we may negotiate the use of other compelling physical evidence. That is all._

When she had finished the letter from the employer she thoughtfully leaned back in her chair. “The client probably doesn’t know Nen, so I imagine he wouldn’t really understand what he was seeing,” she mused. “If he made physical contact with them to blow them up, I’d guess he has an Enhancer ability or a Manipulator ability that needs touch as a condition. But with the swinging...it sounds like the rotation charges his attack. I’d bet good money he’s an Enhancer.”

Hisoka raised an eyebrow. “Took the words right out of my mouth, smartiepants,” he sighed, “which means that we should immobilize him before attacking if we want to end the fight as quickly as possible. Though, he sounds strong – I’d be happy to fight him fairly.”

Her head swiveled towards him, eyes wide. “What do you mean, we?” She hissed. “I don’t intend on splitting the payday.”

He laughed, but he dropped his gaze to study his hands. “I told you, I’m not in it for the cash. I’ll help you out pro bono; I’m just looking for a good fight.” His golden eyes flickered back up to meet hers. “After all, I can’t have someone else beat you before I do,” he murmured, an inscrutable look in his eyes.

She rolled her eyes. “How kind of you,” she drawled. _No, seriously, how kind of you_ , she thought. _I never pegged you as the worried type, Hisoka_. She glanced up at Illumi. “I’m curious – why did you say that this job is above your abilities? It doesn’t seem like there’s enough information to conclude that.”

Illumi’s face was as blank as ever, but she sensed he was struggling to come up with an explanation. “I don’t like going into situations uncertain of my victory,” he admitted, “and for a little while, I was tailing the Troupe with the intent of getting #5 alone.” His gaze darted down to his food, which had just arrived. “And the trouble was, he never was alone. He was always around the other troupe members, and their auras on top of his...especially their leader’s...it’s not something I can handle, at least not yet.”

“Do you think I can handle it?” she blurted out, slightly intimidated.

He snorted. “I’m not in the business of leaving jobs incomplete. Of course, it’s hard to say since we don’t know any of their abilities, but from an aura standpoint, I’m fairly confident. As long as you’re smart and you wait for a good moment to strike.”

She nodded, somewhat reassured. Hisoka tapped her shoulder. “Wanna go to the airship port now?” he asked with a wide smile, his momentary mood seemingly having melted away. “It’s a rather long flight and we should go soon.”

She glanced over at Illumi. “He hasn’t even finished his food, that’s so rude, Hisoka!”

Illumi’s expression did not change. “Rude? How so?” he queried, “it shows that he takes the task I gave you both seriously – seems respectful to me.”

She opened her mouth to argue before changing her mind and closing it. “Uh, sure, Hisoka, let’s head out,” she agreed, putting the folder in her bag and zipping it. Before she knew what was happening, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and she found herself draped over a broad shoulder. She clung to his white crop top for dear life as they whizzed out of the restaurant door and into the night. “Hisoka!” she shrieked, pounding on his chest, “put me down!”

His laugh echoed next to her ear. “Nah, don’t feel like it.” She stared daggers at him and, still running, he looked over at her and poked her nose. “You’re so gorgeous when you’re irritated, darling.” Resigned to her fate and secretly reveling in the feeling of him holding her, she was quiet for the rest of their journey.

***

Once on the airship, they entered a small but cozy room that looked almost like a hotel’s. She thought it was a bit overkill, but Hisoka had insisted on paying so she hadn’t complained. “Uh, ‘Soka?” Y/N asked, eyes wide, “is there a reason why there’s only one bed?” He looked over at the bed, not overly small but certainly not large enough for both of them to maintain their personal space, especially given Hisoka's powerful build. Truthfully, it hadn’t been intentional, but he supposed that the airship staff had assumed they were together.

“I can take the floor,” he sighed dramatically, “although if you were to ask me to join you, I wouldn’t have any complaints.”

“You can join me on the bed,” she mumbled, and Hisoka had to stop his eyes from widening in shock. “You did pay, after all.”

“I did, but I don’t need the bed,” he said with uncharacteristic gentleness. Quickly replacing his soft expression with a smirk, he walked over to her and tilted her head upwards with his index finger. “It was my mistake, and when we share a bed, I would want it to be because you were begging for it. Not because you thought you had to,” he murmured.

She blushed and looked away. “It’s not that big a deal,” she muttered, “shut up and let’s get in bed.” Hisoka smiled broadly, stepping into the bathroom to shower and change into a plain white tank top and sweatpants. When he walked out, Y/N was sitting on the bed reading a book, having changed into loose flannel pajama bottoms and an oversized shirt while he was in the bathroom. She looked so...innocent like this, all of her attitude and spunk gone with the tight black jumpsuit that she fought in. Hisoka couldn’t fight the warmth that crept through his chest at the sight. “Take a picture, ‘Soka, it’ll last longer,” she deadpanned. Turning to look at him, he grinned with satisfaction when he saw her eyes widen.

“What, did I turn into the Bogeyman after my shower or something?”

She quickly shook her head, eyes wide. “I just haven’t seen you in regular clothes with your hair down before,” she blushed, looking away from him and pressing a hand to her mouth. “It looks really good,” she muttered, muffled by her palm.

He chuckled, ignoring the slight nervousness knotting in his stomach. “I knew you’d be all over me eventually, doll,” he bragged, climbing into his side of the bed.

Desperate to move on, she closed her book and placed it on the bedside table. “Ready to go to sleep?” she implored.

He shrugged. “Sure, I’m tired.” She switched off the lamp and hugged the edge of the bed, getting as far as humanly possible from Hisoka. Slightly disappointed but not wanting to press the issue, Hisoka rolled to face away from her and felt himself drift off to sleep. As the night went on, he slumbered dreamlessly, but awoke to the feeling of the blankets shifting ever so slightly every few seconds. His eyes blinked open, and he turned his head to see Y/N trembling in her sleep. _Fuck, what do I do?_ He thought. While he would never admit it, he didn’t like seeing her like this. And, besides, to fight his best, he needed his sleep, right?He decided to roll over and gently shake her awake. “Y/N, wake up darling,” he whispered, continuing until he saw her eyes glitter in the darkness.

“What, Hisoka?” she hissed.

He swallowed. “You were having a nightmare.” _Why do I care?_ He wondered, and found himself unable to answer. She stared at him blankly, and he sighed. “I know how it feels,” he admitted, showing slight vulnerability for what felt like the first time. “Just come here.” He gently turned her over and pulled her into his strong arms, folding her into an embrace.

“You woke me up to cuddle me?” she drawled, but there was a slight waver to her voice.

“If you don’t like it, feel free to push me off, but I just want to help you feel safer so that you'll stop rolling around. It really gets on my nerves, you know.” She huffed and he grinned. “And if being wrapped in a body as built as mine doesn’t make you feel safer, nothing will.”

He felt her tilt her head upwards to glare at him, but wrapped her arms around him in turn. They felt so delicate around his chest that if it weren’t for the throbbing lump on his skull from where she had knocked him out, he would’ve forgotten their strength. She sighed, burying her head into the crook of his arm. “Hisoka?” she murmured.

“Yes, my pet?”

“Thanks.” He kissed the top of her head in response, and she pulled him even closer. Hisoka once again felt that feeling of warmth creep into his chest, curling into his stomach and swelling. _It must be the body heat_ , he thought to himself. _Body heat is so much warmer than I thought it was_. He looked down at the girl in his arms, making sure she was sleeping comfortably before he fell back into a slumber more peaceful than any he could remember. He woke up before her that morning, to his joy, and he simply watched her relaxed face as her chest rose up and down. He had to brush his teeth, but he was unwilling to stir and potentially wake the sleeping girl. _Guess i’m stuck here_ , he thought to himself. _What a selfish b_ _itch_. When her eyes finally fluttered open, though, he was glad that he had waited.

‘Morning, Hiso,” she smiled sleepily, giving a huge yawn and stretching.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he teased. “Took you long enough.”

“Shut up, I was tired,” she groaned. For a long moment, she simply stared at him, studying his face.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious. “What’s on that pretty little mind, sweetheart?” he implored.

She blinked, wearing a thoughtful expression. “Why did you really agree to help me so much with this job?” she asked bluntly. “Why did you wake me up when I was having a nightmare? Why are you acting like you care about me?”

He loosened his grip on her form, leaning back into his pillow. “I already told you, angel, I don’t want anyone to break my toy before I’ve finished with it,” he sighed. “You being fatigued increases our lovely target’s chances of killing you before I’ve beaten you.”

She yanked herself from his arms completely, pulling her legs upwards to sit on her knees. “So it’s just about winning, huh? About you being the one to kill me?” she asked coldly, arms crossing over her chest.

He rolled his eyes at her, trying to ignore the pit that formed in his stomach upon seeing her upset at him. “Yeah, exactly,” he drawled, “that, and finally getting to fuck you.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

She turned away quickly, not letting Hisoka see her face, and climbed out of bed, making for her suitcase to grab her clothes. “Understood,” she replied evenly, “I’m glad we cleared that up.” As she stalked into the bathroom, he tried to laugh. _Ah, I love pissing people off. It’s so entertaining to watch them steam_ , he thought to himself, but even he couldn’t quite force himself to believe it this time. By the time she had left the bathroom, her face was impassive. “Hisoka, thank you for coming with me this far, but I can take it from here,” she stated coldly, “I would very much appreciate you allowing me to complete this mission on my own.”

Hisoka snorted. “Unfortunately darling, it’s not up to you – I want to fight this #5 guy, and that’s my choice. If you want to help, that’s your choice.”

She pressed her lips into a hard line. “In case you didn’t remember, Hisoka, your friend gave me this mission, not you. Don't talk to me like I'm your assistant.”

“Illumi couldn’t care less who pulls off this mission as long as it gets done. If you’re done chatting, I suggest we get our things repacked since we’re landing soon.” She threw her duffel bag on the floor in frustration, but was silent. _Just use him for his skill this once and you can be rid of him forever_ , she thought to herself. _And hey, idiot: never mix work and pleasure again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i know some of this is pretty ooc for hisoka - but with this story, i really want to show the process of chrollo + hisoka becoming as fucked up as they are since this is set around 6 years before canon. i hope you like it and let me know what you think of the story so far :) the reunion we've been waiting for should be coming up in the next few chapters...


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